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H E L L 0.
Unreconcil'd as yet to heav'n, and grace,
Solicit for it straight.

Def. Alack, my Lord,
What may you mean by That?

Oth. Welí, do it, and be brief; I will walk by.
I would not kill thy unprepared fpirit,
No, (heav'ns forefend !) I would not kill thy soul.

Del. Talk you 'of killing ?
Oth. Ay, I do.
Des. Then heav'n have mercy on me
Oth. Amen, with all my heart.3.
Des. If you say fo, I hope, you will not kill me.
Oth. Hum.

Des. And yet I fear you : for you're fatal then, When your eyes rowl fo. Why I should fear, I

know not,
Since guilt I know not: 'yet, I feel, I fear.

Oih. Think'on thy sins.
Des. They're Loves I bear to you.
Oth. Ay, and for That thou dy ft.45

Def. That death's unnatural, that kills for loving.
" Alas, why gnaw you fo your nether lip ?
Some bloody passion fhákes your very frame ;
These are portents: 'but yet I hope, I hope,
They do not point on me.

Oth, Peace, and be fill. Def. I will so, what's the matter? Oih. That handkerchief Which I fo lov’d, and gave thee, thou gav'f Cafro.

Def. No, by my life and foul: send for the man, And ask him.

Oth. Sweet Soul, take heed, take heed of perjury ; Thou art on thy death-bed.

Def. Ay, but not yet to die.

Oth. Presently ; Therefore confefs thee freely of ihy sin: For to deny each article with oath, Cannot remove, nor choke, the strong conception


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That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.

Des.. Oh, heay'n have mercy on me!
Oth. I say, amen.

Des. And have you mercy too! I never did
Offend you in my life; never loyd Caffio,
But with such general warranty of heav'n,
As I might love. I never gave him token.

Oth. By heav'n, I saw my handkerchief in's hand. Oh pejur'd woman! thou doft stone my

And mak'ft me call, what I intend to do,
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice.
I saw the handkerchief. :: 15.01.

Des. He found it then;
I never gave it him; send for him hither,
Let him confefs a truth.

Oth. He hath confeft.
Des. What, my

Oth. That he hathus'd thee-
Def. How? unlawfully?utri.
Oth. Ay.


*** 20:37 DEC Des. He will not say so. Hvaly..?! Vous

Oth. No, his mouth is stopp'd; Honest Iago hath-ta'en order for't.

Des. My fear interprets then-What, isthe dead?

oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge Had ftomach for them all.

IsnJUVAS Def. Alas, he is betray'd, and I undone. A vi Oth. Out, ftrumpet! weep'lt thou for him to my face ?

1 more Def. Oh banish me, my Lord, but kill me noi. Oth. Down, ftrumpet. Def. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night. oth. Nay, if you trives Def. But half an hour. Oth. Being done, there is no pause, Des. But while I say, one prayere Oth. It is too late.

(He fmothers her.



Æmilia, at the door.
Y lord, my


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Oth. What noise is this? not dead? not yet quite

I, that am cruel, am yet merciful ;
I would not have thee linger in thy pain.
So, fo.

Æmil. within.] What hoa! my Lord, my Lord !
Oth. Who's There?
Emil. Oh, my good Lord, I would speak a word

with you.

Oth. Yes, 'tis Æmiliamby and by-she's dead. 'Tis like she comes to speak of Casio's death; The noise was high.-Ha, no more moving ? Still as the Grave. Shall she come in ? were't good ? I think, she stirs again-No-what's the belt ? If she come in, she'll, sure, speak to my wife; My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife. Oh insupportable! oh heavy hour! Methinks, it should be now a huge eclipse Of Sun, and Moon, and that th' affrighted globe Should

yawn at alteration
Æmil. I beseech you,
That I may speak with you. Oh, good my lord! -

Oth. I had forgot thee; oh, come in, Æmilia.
Soft, by and by, let me the curtains draw.
Where art thou ? what's the matter with thee now ?

(Unlocks the door.
Enter Æmilia.
Æmil. Oh, my good lord, yonder's foul murder

Oth. What? now ?
Æmil. But now, my Lord.


Oth, Oth. It is the very error of the Moon; She comes more near the Earth than she was wont, And makes men mad.

Æmil. Caffio, my Lord, hath kill'd
A young Venetian, call'd Rodorigo.

Oth. Rodorigo kill'd ? and Casio kill'd ?
Æmil. No, Caffio is not kill'd.

Oth. Not Casio kill'd then murder's out of tune, And sweet revenge grows harsh.

Def. Oh, falsely, falsely murder'd !-
Æmil. Alas! what cry is that?
Oth. That? what?

Æmil. Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice. Help! help, hoa! help! oh lady, speak again ; Sweet Desdemona! oh, sweet mistress, speak.

Des. A guiltless death I die.
Æmil. Oh, who hath done this deed ?

Def. No body, I myself, farewel ;
Commend me to my kind Lord; oh, farewel.

Oth. Why, how should sbe be murder'd ?
Æmil. Alas! who knows !
Oth. You heard her say, herself, it was not I.
Æmil. She said so, I must needs report the truth.

Oth. She's like a liar gone to burning hell; 'Twas I, that kill'd her. Ænil. Oh, the more Angel le, and you the blacker

Oth. She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore.
Æmil. Thou doft bely her, and thou art a Devil.
Oth. She was false as water.

Æmil. Thou art ralh as fire, to say
That she was false. Oh, she was heav'nly true.

Oth. Caffio did tup her; ask thy husband else.
Oh, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,
But that I did proceed upon just grounds
To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.
Æmil. My husband !


vih. Thy husband.
Æmil. That she was false to wedlock ?

Oth. Ay, with Casio : had lhe been true,
If heav'n would make me fuch another World,
Of one entire and perfect Chrysolite,
I'd not have sold her for it.

Æmil. My husband !

Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me first: An honeft man he is, and hates the sime That sticks on filthy deeds.

Æmil. My husband !

Oth. What needs this iteration, woman? I say, thy husband.

(love. Æmil. Oh mistress! villany has made mocks with My husband say, she was false !

Oth. He, woman ;
I say, thy husband; doft understand the word ?
My friend, thy husband, honeft, honest Iago.

Æmil. If he say so, may his pernicious soul
Rot half a grain a day! 'he lies to th' heart.
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.

Oth. Hah!

Æmil. Do thy worft :
This deed of thine is no more worthy heay'n,
Than thou waft worthy her.

Oth. Peace, you were best.

Emil. Thou hast not half that powerto do me harm, As I have to be hurt: oh gull! oh dolt! As ignorant as dirt ! thou'st done a deed I care not for thy sword, I'll make thee known, Though I loft twenty lives---Help! help, hoa; help! The Moor hath kill'd my mistress. Murder, murder!

Enter Montano, Gratiano, Iago, and others,
Mon. THAT is the matter? how now, General?

Æmil. Oh,
done well,


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